


Count Sheep

by RiceNoodlesAndCrime



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), mcyt
Genre: Dream is only mentioned, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friend the sheep is the best character in the Dream SMP and has canonically done nothing wrong, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Manipulation, Light Angst, Nightmares, Other, Recovery, This is about their characters in the SMP and does not reflect the real people, cursing, death mention, siblings(?)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:40:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28329867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiceNoodlesAndCrime/pseuds/RiceNoodlesAndCrime
Summary: Friend has canonically done no wrong in the entire series and I intend to pay tribute to that right here right now if Friend dies I will go fucking feral...oh yeah also Tommy and Ghostbur bonding moment woohoo
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit
Comments: 12
Kudos: 59





	Count Sheep

**Author's Note:**

> I have too fallen to the hyper fixation of the block people

_If you didn’t look too hard at the ruined town of_ _L’manberg_ _you could almost call it quaint. Just a simple little group of buildings, twinkling with light and hospitality in the middle of a wilderness._

_From a distance, it was hard to spot the craters. If you didn’t dig too much you could ignore the few explosives that hadn’t gone off in the cataclysmic event. The strewn about items could be mistaken for reckless pollution and not massacre._

_From his place among the rubble, Wilbur could almost convince himself the falling ash was just snow._

_He surveyed what he’d done, the world blurring before him into a background static just like his thoughts._

_It was so quiet._

_Almost peaceful._

_He heard someone shout. He heard a scream. He heard the wind howl as it tried to sway him. He felt the ash caress his skin. He heard a soft familiar voice he heard footsteps on uneven ground he heard a sword unsheathe he heard a sword plunge into flesh-_

_There was a spot of color on his shirt, he realized. A dark red. It bloomed and unfurled like a rose, its steel thorn pointing straight through his chest and it burned for just a moment._

_“I’m sorry,” said someone above him._

_Philza_ _...._

_The burning stopped. And_ _so_ _did everything else._

_He slid into the quiet, and could almost pretend it was sleep._

~ 

Ghostbur opened his eyes, hands fumbling with the fabric of his shirt, just above where the scar would be. Faintly, he recognized he was breathing fast, and clutched at the blanket of his little cot, static filling his head and spilling out his ears. The fabric was soft, a thread coming undone under his ministrations, pinching and undoing it as he waited for the memories to pass, as they always do. 

Something butted softly into his shoulder, letting out a soft bleat. Abandoning his blanket Wilbur ran his fingers through Friend’s soft blue wool, a curve to his lips as he held them close. Friend was here, that must be a good sign. 

Where was ‘here’ anyway? 

Walls... He was in a room. A room under Technoblade’s house. He could tell from the familiar howling wind outside, making him shiver from more than cold. And there was a flickering light, warm and dancing with shadows across the walls. He turned to it. 

In front of the emitting warmth of a furnace was Tommy. He was crouched, poking at the flames every now and then, staring into the flames numbly. 

He and Tommy had been building a small hut next right next to Technoblade in the tundra (despite Techno’s annoyance with the closeness of the two buildings, though the pigman didn’t stop them). But they hadn’t been done when the cold winter night had come, biting and nipping at their tired limbs. They’d slept down in Tommy’s den for the night. 

“Hey,” Ghostbur said softly. Tommy flinched anyway, jumping from his spot on the floor until his eyes landed on Ghostbur. 

“Shit man!” he gave a nervous laugh, sitting back down, “Scared the hell out of me,” 

Silence. 

“Can I join you?” Ghostbur asked. 

“Wha-” Tommy shifted on the floor, making space for him. “Uh ye-yeah sure.” 

He carefully sat down in front of the flames, Tommy’s knee butting into his. 

For a while it was quiet. The crackle of flames and Friend’s gentle bleating as Ghostbur pet them being the only sounds. The ghost watched the ashes from the fire rise into the chimney, floating up and up and up and away from the shelter of the room, into the cold and chilly air of the icy night. It made Ghostbur’s skin itch. 

He looked away from the fire and at Tommy instead. The boy stared absently into the flames, very still and so very small. He barely seemed to breathe at all. Ghostbur noticed the darkness lining his eyes, the sag in his posture, the blankness in his gaze. 

“Why are you up?” 

Tommy didn’t answer at first, words jolting him out of wherever he'd been. His eyes darted around Ghostbur’s face. “What?” 

“I just asked why you were up,” 

Tommy scoffed, sneaker scuffing the floor. “Why are _you_ up? Huh?” he cringed at his own tone. “Sorry-sorry... That was mean.” 

Ghostbur thought, trying to dig through the static in his head. Static that was still there, always there, just quieter sometimes. 

“Well... I had a bad dream.” Ghostbur said quietly. He scratched Friend behind the ears, the sheep leaning into the touch wholeheartedly. 

“I...” Tommy didn’t seem like he’d expected the response. He shook it off quickly. “What um-… Do-do you wanna talk about it?” 

"I think it was about my death...” he tried to strain farther against the static, to dig farther inside the confusing coils of his thoughts and memories and the hidden parts of himself. But it hurt too much and he let go of the train of thought. “That’s all I remember, though. Dying.” 

Tommy frowned, “Shit man...” 

“Yeah... _Shit”_ the word felt foreign on his tongue, but it made him feel a bit better. It also made Tommy laugh, which was nice. 

The fire crackled angrily as a log fell. 

“I....” Tommy (laughed? No, it sounded too painful to be a laugh. Too jagged and rough, like broken glass.) suddenly. “I had a bad dream too. A-a-about Dream! Ha! Bad dream, and Dream.” He sighed, rubbing his drooping eyelids. “There’s a pun in there somewhere, but I’m too tired to make it.” 

Ghostbur frowned. “You should get some rest. We have a lot of work to do on the cabin tomorrow.” 

“Yeah yeah... sure.” he hugged himself, leaning almost dangerously close to the warmth of the flames. 

Ghostbur shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t like seeing Tommy unhappy. He wanted to fix it, to make it better. The frown didn’t suit his younger brother's face at all. 

But how to help...? 

He remembered talking to Techno once about it, while Tommy was away gathering wood. How he wanted to help Tommy, to make the pain in his eyes (that hadn’t been there before, had it? His brother hadn’t always been so unhappy...) go away. 

Techno had admitted he was worried too, starring out the window where fresh foot tracks stood out starkly in the snowdrifts. 

_Healing takes time_ , he had said. _Time and care. We’ve just gotta support him._

Time... Support... 

Tommy struggled to stifle a yawn, and Ghostbur decided he’d start there. A lack of sleep couldn’t be helping this healing process, right? 

“Here, come on Tommy.” he stood and lent a hand to Tommy, who stared at it numbly. “Let’s go to sleep,” 

Tommy contemplated the outstretched palm before batting it away. “Don wanna...” he held his knees to his chest, head perched on top of them. “Sleep’s overrated.” 

The ghost had expected this though. He looked down and winked at Friend, and they bleated softly, ramming their head into Tommy’s legs. 

“AH!” Tommy wobbled backward, “Get your sheep, Ghostbur!” 

“Friend wants you to sleep,” he pointed out, smirking. 

Tommy rolled his eyes, petting Friend as they attempted to climb up his knees. “Alright alright alright! Fine fine... I’ll go to bed.” 

Ghostbur smiled brilliantly. It worked! “O-okay! Goodnight,” he went back to his own cot, as if trying to set an example for Tommy. 

“Ghostbur,” 

“Mhm?” he shifted under the covers, getting comfortable. 

“ _Ghostbur_ _!”_ Tommy half- yelled, half-whispered furiously. “ _Your sheep won’t leave me alone!”_

Ghostbur smiled into his pillow, “They just want to make sure you sleep, Tommy.” 

“ _Ghostbur_ _they are eating my sheets-”_ Tommy screamed quietly, “Give that back you fucking sheep bastard-” 

“Maybe you should count him,” Ghostbur suggested innocently, “might help you fall asleep.” 

“Ghostbur I swear I’ll kill you you’re already dead but I’ll kill you again-” a bleating sound. “ _Get off my bed you heathen!”_

Ghostbur stifled his laughter as he listened to the insistent bleating of Friend and Tommy’s protests fill the room. It was a miracle Techno was still asleep. In fact, he was probably awake, and staring at the roof of his bedroom as he pondered why he took in a ghost, a sheep, and a mentally unstable teen, and then proceeded to put them all in the same room for the night. 

Later that night, after Ghostbur and Techno had fallen asleep, Friend was still next to Tommy, the latter clutching them close as they fell into peaceful rest. 

**Author's Note:**

> WHILE I WAS WRITING THIS TEDDY HYDE'S SONG: SEX WITH A GHOST CAME ON MY SPOTIFY SHUFFLE IM SCREAMING-


End file.
